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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28851048">Let Me Stay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rulerofyouall/pseuds/Rulerofyouall'>Rulerofyouall</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canonical Character Death, Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, Damian Wayne is Robin, Death, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Male Character, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd-centric, Jason-centric, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Protective Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Tim Drake is Red Robin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:21:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,844</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28851048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rulerofyouall/pseuds/Rulerofyouall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason dies....a lot. It's never permanent.<br/>Death keeps kicking him out of the afterlife, but Jason wants to stay.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alfred Pennyworth &amp; Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon &amp; Jason Todd, Batfamily Members &amp; Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain &amp; Jason Todd, Dick Grayson &amp; Jason Todd, Jason Todd &amp; Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd &amp; Damian Wayne, Roy Harper &amp; Jason Todd, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown &amp; Jason Todd, Tim Drake &amp; Dick Grayson &amp; Jason Todd &amp; Bruce Wayne &amp; Damian Wayne, Tim Drake &amp; Dick Grayson &amp; Jason Todd &amp; Damian Wayne, Tim Drake &amp; Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Emotionally_Devastated</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Death Yeets Jason</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I own nothing!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Jason died, he had been very young. He had spent a lot of time in the hospital after he was born, seemingly without any reason. It might have been Willis Todd's bad genes, or maybe he had been exposed to too many of Catherine Todd's drugs. Regardless of the reason, he had been in the intensive care unit for months and months and months. He had no memory of it, but his biological father had never let him forget about the burden it was.</p><p>Apparently, his lungs were <em>fucked</em>. The thick smog that covered Gotham hadn't helped at all. He had been born premature, and his lungs had not had enough of a chance to develop properly. Jason knew that it probably wasn't cheap to fix, most likely far from it, but he had never thought that it was his fault.</p><p>According to his mom, his lungs just gave out one day. He had been legally dead for a long, long time, long enough that the doctors had given up on him, but apparently, as soon as his mother clutched his limp, dead hand, he had breathed deeply and opened his eyes for the first time. The doctors had called it a miracle.</p><p>Jason wasn't sure how credible that account was. His mother had probably spruced it up, exaggerated completely. Whatever.</p><p>According to his longest friend, he had died more times than he could remember. She told him that his younger self never retained his memories of the afterlife, but they had been coming back after he had been thrown in the Lazarus Pit. He almost felt bad for her. It must've been difficult to introduce herself to him every single time as if they had never met before, but it was better now.</p><p>He had never liked having holes in his memory, but he was remembering more and more nowadays. There was seemingly no reason why Death kept kicking him out; she had never told him. He had died what seemed like a thousand times over, but she never let him stay.</p><p>When he was on the streets, he had apparently succumbed to hypothermia a few times and to starvation a few more. Once, he had drunk tainted water and been poisoned, but it slowed down after Bruce had adopted him.</p><p>That didn't last for long though. Whether it was a bullet, a long fall, or a beating, Robin would often die on patrol, but he always made it back before Batman noticed. It wasn't like he remembered dying after the fact anyway. That had always scared him. Sometimes, he would wake up with new scars and injuries and plain old <em>pain</em> that he couldn't identify the source of.</p><p>One death he had suffered through had more consequences than normal, however. He had been chasing after Felipe Garzonas when he had lost concentration briefly and got slammed in the head. The man had taken his gun, put it against the back of his head, and fired it, and Jason's head had exploded in a splash of deep blood red.</p><p>Garzonas had then went on the balcony to have a smoke while ignoring the body of the dead child behind him. His friend, the woman in the afterlife, had let him see his mother that one time, so he took a little bit longer in coming back. It was the coming back part that destroyed any and all trust between Batman and Robin.</p><p>He had gasped awake, wiping the blood out of his eyes furiously had shakily getting to his feet. Jason had stumbled a few feet before he spoke one word, "Garzonas."</p><p>The man he had been chasing jumped in surprise, eyes focussing on the zombie boy before him. Obviously, he had been terrified, and he had then spoken, "What the fuck are you?"</p><p>"What do you mean?" Jason had had no memory of his death and was confused as to why there was blood covering him. He hadn't had a clue what was going on.</p><p>He walked forwards in Garzonas's direction, but as he took a step forwards, he took a step back right off the edge of the balcony. Bruce had accused Jason of pushing him, but he hadn't even touched him. One moment, he had been chasing him, and the next, he was on the floor covered in blood. Garzonas hadn't been paying him any attention, obviously assuming that he had been out for the count.</p><p>Jason hadn't meant to surprise Garzonas so bad. He hadn't meant to make him fall off, but Bruce hadn't believed him. He had never believed him. Slowly, the divide between father and son grew more and more until Jason snapped and went to go find his biological mother, and clearly, that hadn't ended well.</p><p>He wasn't too sure why it had taken him so long to come back to life that time as that memory hadn't come back to him yet. All he knew was that he had woken up in his coffin, scratched desperately at the fabric and wood. Jason knew he had died again a few times in the fucking coffin. It had taken him time to regain his strength and recover from rigor mortis and everything, so he had suffocated a few times before breaking through to the open Gotham air.</p><p>Talia had been very intrigued by his ability to revive himself from the dead. According to her, he had gotten himself killed a few times while catatonic, but he hadn't recovered those memories yet. Everything started coming back to him after she dipped him in the Lazarus Pit. While being trained, he had died a few times as well. Ra's al Ghul became more and more obsessed with how he managed to do so, yet he never figured out how. He had been poisoned, stabbed, and shot more times than he could care to remember, especially after he started doing missions for Talia and looking after Damian.</p><p>She had stuck him with Damian for years, and he had watched him grow older (and more entitled). Luckily, the newest Robin wasn't as bad as he used to be. Jason still cared for him regardless.</p><p>Of course, being an al Ghul, there were people after Damian, and Jason had been the only one Talia trusted to protect him. He did a pretty good job at it too, seeing that the brat was still alive (except that one time). Talia had wanted him to keep the whole not-dying thing away from her son, and he had done his best to follow her wishes.</p><p>Unfortunately, Jason was eventually forced to reveal his little "ability" to the boy following an assassination attempt. He had been removing the young child from the premises as several other guards distracted the intruders. Damian had slowed him down, wanting a chance to prove himself in battle against his attackers, and Jason had been unable to drag him away quickly.</p><p>He had seen the sniper before the shot was fired. Damian had squawked indignantly as he was pushed behind the older boy, not quite knowing what had happened until Jason's body collapsed on top of him, dead. Jason didn't know how he had reacted at first, but by the time he had awoken, he was relatively calm. He called him an "idiot" for letting himself get shot and killed. Despite that, he could tell that the younger boy was grateful for being saved.</p><p>Jason got used to death over the years. The lady in charge was pleasant to be around. They would often chat while he waited for his body to reboot, and she even brought in his mother (not Sheila, his <em>real</em> mother) for a few minutes. He enjoyed the time he spent with her, but she never let him stay.</p><p>It hurt more when he died at the hands of someone he cared about. He was okay with dying to protect Damian, who he already considered his brother (with Talia being their mom), but Jason always felt so undeniably <em>betrayed</em> when someone like Bruce would kill him.</p><p>And Bruce had killed him too. He chose to save the Joker, his murderer, and threw a lethally sharp batarang at his throat, and he had ended up in Death's arms before Bruce even left the roof. He hadn't noticed how quickly Jason had bled out or even that he bled out at all. Death let him stay a bit longer than normal there, and he felt safe enough to express his emotions, to cry more so than he would have in any other place. It hadn't been fair. Bruce always said that killing was unforgivable, but there he goes, turning around and killing Jason himself.</p><p>He came back hardened but hadn't expected to die by any other of the Bats' hands again. He was unfortunately proven wrong later on. Not that he did it directly or anything, but he had asked Dick for help on that mission. Dick had told him to deal with it himself. Jason hadn't been able to deal with it himself.</p><p>None of the Bats (except Damian, obviously) seemed to know about his special ability, and he couldn't care enough to tell them about it. What would they use that information for anyway? An excuse to beat him even more than they already did without fear of breaking their precious rule? He was perfectly fine keeping them in the dark.</p><p>Everything changed when Roy died. His partner had known about his ability but did not like him using it. He had been afraid that one day Jason wouldn't come back at all, and without Roy, Jason wished that the darkness would swallow him up once more. He wished Death had let him stay time and time again when he went to go 'visit' his boyfriend. She always threw him back into consciousness, and he didn't fucking know why. Why wouldn't she let him die? What purpose did reviving him serve?</p><p>He sighed once more, turning the television off. Maybe this time he would be allowed to see Roy before being thrown out, or even better, maybe she would let him stay permanently. He hadn't seen his boyfriend in months since before he died, and he missed the poor fucker. He wanted him so much it hurt.</p><p>
  <em>Go on. No one will notice.</em>
</p><p>Surely, they would. He was supposed to help out with a case that night.</p><p>
  <em>But will they care?</em>
</p><p>...That was a more difficult question to answer. They didn't really give a fuck about him, did they? He was the murderer, the black sheep, and the one Bruce hated. He had wondered why everyone seemed to love Tim when they hated Jason for replacing Dick, but soon, he realized that it wasn't about Robin. It had never been about Robin. It was about him.</p><p>So, it would be better for everyone if he stayed dead. He'd get to be with Roy, and they'd get to be <em>without</em> him. It was a win win.</p><p>Jason wasn't going to take any risks with this one. Simply shooting himself in the head didn't last long at all; Death always sent him back quickly after that. The longest recovery period was after being beaten by the Joker and then being in an explosion, and he didn't think he'd get to be in that situation again. Poison and drowning both had a short recovery time too, but slicing a major artery...Depending on the artery he used, he could be in business.</p><p>He'd have to fill up the bathtub too. It always bled longer underwater, and it wouldn't close or heal as quickly. Jason gripped his kris as he collapsed and slumped down under the water, still in his clothes. He couldn't give two shits about taking them off, and it would just tell whoever found his body that he did this to himself. One more person he would kill before he was done. Maybe Batman would be happy about that.</p><p>Jason had selected several arteries to slit, and he was going to hit as many of them as possible before he fell unconscious. The metal of the knife slid through his skin easily, and he felt nothing but the adrenaline coursing through his veins. </p><p>Slit. Slit. Slit.</p><p>He saw black spots, and he knew he was doing the right thing. Soon, he would be with Roy. He loved him. He wanted to <em>be</em> with him forever, and this was the only way he would be able to ensure that.</p><p>Hopefully, Death would let him stay.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Death Serves Tea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jason Todd is dead....again.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"And here I thought I wasn't going to be graced by your company for a long while yet." She raised a stark eyebrow at him. "It seems that I was inaccurate."</p><p>The Lady of Death was many things, but cruel was not one of them. She did not go out herself to murder people, and she didn't unnecessarily condemn people to suffer in Hell. She was more like the gatekeeper, the one who lets people in (and occasionally out, as Jason had learned). No matter how much Jason had grown over the years, she was still far taller than him. His head only came to the middle of her chest. Death was not a flamboyant gal nor did she enjoy the bright colors of life. She looked, well, dead herself: her skin sunken in and graying, her hair thinning and coming off in patches. Regardless of how monstrous some people thought she looked, Death was probably one of the nicest people that Jason had ever had the pleasure of encountering.</p><p>"Let me stay?" Those three words were always the first ones to escape his lips whilst he was in her presence.</p><p>Like usual, the lady sighed, looking down as though she pitied him; he wished she wouldn't do that. "I cannot let you stay, Jason. It is not your time yet."</p><p>"What do I need to accomplish in order to be able to stay?" He inquired. "If there is nothing left I have to do, you'd let me stay, right?"</p><p>"You know I cannot tell you that. You must let fate take its course."</p><p>With that, she put a long, skeletal hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the gates to the afterlife. The area outside of the gates served as a confusing sort of limbo. He hadn't been welcomed by the dead, but his body had been damaged too much to return to. The longer he spent there, the more his head hurt just knowing how <em>wrong</em> this place was. Spirits were not meant to wander. They eventually came upon a large platform made of stone, and she gestured for him to sit.</p><p>He did. Maybe if he played his cards right, she would change her mind about letting him stay in the afterlife with Roy and his mother.</p><p>Wordlessly, she conjured a teapot, one made out of millions of carpals, metacarpals, and phalanges. Jason simply watched as she stirred the liquid around in the teapot, just as silent as before, but at least she had looked up and gave him a smile. He relaxed a bit, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Honestly, Jason had half expected her to be furious with him upon his return. After all, she just kept sending him back to life again and again, so he must be grating on her nerves at this point, right? She must think he's the most annoying human she's ever met.</p><p>Once she was satisfied with her tea, she poured both herself and Jason a cup, and Jason nodded gratefully while accepting it. He wasn't sure why, but the tea she made was always so much more comforting that the ones on the earthly realm even though they were served in glasses made of bone. Perhaps it was because she wasn't meant to be dangerous. She was only a keeper of the gates and sometimes a guide for the dead, so Death must have had plenty experience calming the spirits of the recently deceased.</p><p>"I assume you have returned here for a reason." It wasn't a question.</p><p>Jason nodded his head in agreement. "I can't stay there anymore."</p><p>"And why is that?"</p><p>"Everyone who loves me is dead."</p><p>She shot him yet another one of those glances, full of pity, that he hated. "I am sure that that is not the case. You have a family, no?"</p><p>"It's an unhealthy relationship." He responded blandly. "Bruce literally killed me that one time. Aren't I supposed to be the one with gaps in their memory?"</p><p>Death conceded to that point. "There are others in the family."</p><p>Jason knew that that was true as well. He had always loved Alfred, and he knew that Alfred loved him back. Hell, he had even grown attached to his younger siblings (after he, you know, stopped trying to kill them). Damian had been a constant in his life since the League too, so why did he feel so unloved in life?</p><p>"They will get over me quickly." He argued. "I've already been dead in their eyes before. It shouldn't be too difficult for them to revert to that state of mind."</p><p>The lady tutted. "Fate is a tricky thing, Jason. You cannot stop it."</p><p>"I might be able to if you tell me what the hell is supposedly going to happen to me."</p><p>"Oftentimes when avoiding a prophecy, you unknowingly make it worse." She explained. "I do not wish that on you."</p><p>Jason grimaced. "Are you saying it's bad then?"</p><p>"I said nothing of the sort, Jason." She sipped her tea. "I assume you are here for Roy?"</p><p>"Will you let me see him?" He straightened his back quickly.</p><p>"No."</p><p>Disappointment flooded through his veins as he hunched back over once again. Death had let him see Catherine Todd on numerous occasions, so what was so different about Roy's situation? Was she trying to torment him? Make him slowly go mad in the absence of the one person he loved more than anything else in the universe?</p><p>She seemed to read his mind, and Jason wondered briefly if she actually could. "It is too close to his death. Allowing him to come out and see you could have...disastrous effects on the health of his spirit. You must let him stabilize himself here first, Jason; only then will you be able to speak to him." Death shot him a pointed look. "I am not trying to be mean to you. I am just stating the facts."</p><p>Logically, he knew that she was right, but he had never wanted anything so much before. He flicked his eyes back towards the gates. Just beyond them was his partner, the most beautiful man in the world, Roy Harper, and there was nothing he could do to reach him. It hurt to know that he was so close to him yet so far away.</p><p>"Why does it have to be me?" Jason bit his lip. "I died when I was a baby. You could have let me stay dead and started over. Someone else could've easily been chosen." <em>And they'd probably do a much better job at it anyway.</em></p><p>"It has to be you. No one else will suffice; fate has decreed it."</p><p>"I don't want to."</p><p>Death shrugged. "People always do things they don't necessarily want to do."</p><p>"People don't always go between life and death as I have." Jason responded immediately.</p><p>It was almost like he was a tennis ball. One side of the court was the living, and the other side was the dead. All he had to do was wait until one player missed a shot, and then, he could finally have the inner peace he had always wanted. He hoped that it would be Death to lose the point. He found that he wanted to stay here, to go through the gate. His mother would be there. <em>Roy </em> would be there. Everything about it sounded picture perfect to him.</p><p>"You cannot escape your fate." She repeated. "If I were you, I would stop trying to run from it. Embrace it, and it will go smoother."</p><p>Jason scowled to himself, but he hid it pretty well behind his tea cup. "I am not a pawn to be played. I will make my own decisions."</p><p>"We are all pawns in the end, even me. There is nothing anyone can do about that." Death leaned forward.</p><p>"Then, who is the chess master?" He asked.</p><p>She didn't answer his question, deciding instead to carefully place her tea cup on the stone slab in front of her. She stood abruptly, towering over Jason, and held a bony hand out for him to grasp. Of course he did, and he held her hand tightly as they walked through the space before the gates to the afterlife. Where were they going?</p><p>"You cannot stay." She repeated herself from earlier. "You are needed back in the earthly realm."</p><p>"Needed for what?" Jason demanded.</p><p>Death merely stared at him again, and he felt like slapped his free hand across his face. <em>Duh.</em> She had literally just told him that she would not explain anything to him or be helpful in basically any regard at all. It appeared that Jason would have to figure this shit out himself. Joy.</p><p>"Your body has been healed." She moved her hand out of Jason's grasp and onto his back. "You must go, my young friend."</p><p>He felt himself slowly hyperventilating, his breathing becoming faster and faster as time went on. He couldn't go back now. He hadn't even gotten what he came for yet! He needed to see Roy, needed to see if he was doing okay. Sometimes, dying can do fucked up stuff to one's brain, and he didn't want to see that happen to his partner. No, sir, not in a million years. He looked up to his long time friend, eyes watery as he knew she would yet again send him away. Why did everyone always reject him? Was he truly that unlovable?</p><p>"For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Jason." Death trailed a finger up to Jason's forehead, and he was out like a light.</p>
<hr/><p>There was no one in his apartment when he woke up. Good. That was one more secret that remained intact through all the chaos that had taken over his life recently. Absentmindedly, he drained the bathtub of the bloody water and stripped himself of the waterlogged clothing, but he felt nothing at all. It just wasn't fair. Why did he have to be the one cursed to walk the earth over and over and over again? They could have chosen anyone else, someone who wasn't a murderer, who hadn't been tainted by the waters of the Lazarus Pit.</p><p>He hadn't moved any of Roy's things. Deep down, he knew that he should, but on the surface, he still hoped that one day the archer would come through the door alive and as wonderful as ever, having cheated death just like Jason had many times. That fantasy of his never came to fruition. Ignoring the painful reminders, he slumped over on a nearby couch. The skin that had once been sliced open as precisely as Jason could manage had scarred over, and he was feeling his blood volume returning to their normal levels. Why did his body have to function like a well oiled machine? Why couldn't it just...stop working one day? Maybe he could pass on while he was sleeping; that'd be nice even if it would be a pretty pathetic way for Red Hood to meet his end.</p><p>Jason wanted desperately to be able to feel something right then and there. He didn't like being numb. Why couldn't he be angry with his old friend for sending him back? Frustrated that he got sent back before even seeing his partner? Hell, he'd even take feeling terrified at this moment in time, but there wasn't anything going on in his heart. There was nothing, just a dull end of a knife trying to poke through Jason's walls, and he knew very well that it'd never make it to the outside.</p><p>He was roused from his thoughts by the ringing of his cell phone. Well, it wasn't quite ringing really, just a loop of 'Red Robin...Yum' over and over and over again. He had thought it was amusing at the time, but it didn't do much to make him happier at this time. It wouldn't bring Roy back, nor would it send him to the afterlife.</p><p>
  <em>Dear fuck, have I always been so edgy?</em>
</p><p>"What?" He pinched the bridge of his nose as he answered. Coming back from the dead always left him with the biggest migraines.</p><p>"Hey, Jason, just wondering--where were you yesterday?" Tim's voice crackled in his ear.</p><p>Jason straightened and sat up a bit. "What day was yesterday?"</p><p>"You were going to come over and help us with a case, remember?"</p><p>
  <em>Ah, fuck.</em>
</p><p>"Oh, shit, sorry Tim."</p><p>"Lost track of time?"</p><p>"Something like that, yeah." Jason found himself nodding along even though his little brother wouldn't be able to see it. Maybe he could argue that being dead counted as sleeping in too late?</p><p>His brother was silent for a moment. "You think you could stop by later tonight?"</p><p>"Yeah, sure thing."</p><p>"Thanks," the younger man quickly hung up the phone.</p><p>Jason found himself staring at the cell phone in his hand for several minutes after that. He could only have been dead for, what, twelve hours? That would've been enough time to miss the Bats' meeting and still be bright out the next day. He hummed slightly, finding that he didn't really care how long his body had been out of commission, the point being that it wasn't out of commission long enough. Perhaps if he had been more careful, his body would've taken long enough to revive itself that he could have talked to someone other than Death herself. Maybe she would've let him see his mother at the very least if Roy was still off limits.</p><p>Whatever. He'd figure that out later.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Death the Tantalizing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Some people...just don't want to be alive</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So what were you up to yesterday?" Tim sipped at his coffee, his glorious bean juice, and stared at his older brother.</p><p>The Batcave wasn't too packed right now. The only ones who were there at the time were Bruce, Dick, and Damian, and of course, Jason and Tim. Cass had been abducted by Steph for the time being, and Duke had decided to spend time with Alfred in the manor. For now, though, the five of them were focused on reconnaissance. A new supplier of Venom had recently popped up in Gotham, and they wanted to stamp them out before too many people suffered. The only problem was that they had no idea who the fuck this supplier was.</p><p>Jason's eyes shot up, and for a second, Tim thought he saw fear and panic in them. That couldn't be right, could it? Jason wouldn't hide something from him, would he? <strike>He would.</strike> Concern bloomed in his chest, only amplifying with every second it took for his brother to respond to his query.</p><p>"Unconscious." The taller man turned back to look at his laptop, clicking on something that Tim couldn't see.</p><p>Dick raised an eyebrow and approached Jason. "And why were you unconscious?"</p><p>"None of your business."</p><p>"Are you hurt?"</p><p>"Not anymore."</p><p>"So you were hurt!" Dick smirked. "How'd it heal so fast?"</p><p>"The Pit." Jason glared up at him, feeling satisfied as he watched his brother wince in discomfort at the memory. "Fuck off now, will you?"</p><p>Bruce cleared his throat in the background. "Language."</p><p>
  <em>I don't give a fuck what you think.</em>
</p><p>Jason rolled his eyes dramatically, pointedly ignoring his family's gaze. Damian was the one who stared the hardest at him though, and Jason got the uneasy feeling that he <em>knew </em>what he had done. After all, he was the only one who knew about his repeated inability to die and stay dead, and he also knew that sometimes Jason would do things on purpose. He never approved of his behavior, even ratted him out to Talia a few times. Hell, those conversations with her had been <em>uncomfortable </em>as fuck, but the kid always seemed to feel better after them.</p><p>"Did you meet with your...friend?" Damian cleared his throat a few times.</p><p>Tim furrowed his brow. "How could he have gone to see anyone if he was unconscious?"</p><p>The younger boy shot him a warning glare. "That was a question for Todd."</p><p>"She did help me heal, yes." Jason picked his words carefully, not wanting to give the Bats the slightest suspicion about the nature of his friend.</p><p>"And what injury did you have?" Bruce stopped typing on his keyboard and swiveled in his chair to face the four of his kids present. "It must have been pretty serious if it knocked you unconscious."</p><p>He should have delayed his plans to kill himself until <em>after</em> the meeting with Tim. If he had, there wouldn't be so many questions about his absence, and that would have made his life so much easier. Well, they do say that hindsight is 20/20 for a reason. At the time, Jason had just hoped that he would have been allowed to stay with the dead permanently, but realistically, he knew that that had been too much to ask of his old friend.</p><p>"Got in a knife fight." Jason responded coolly, giving no inclination that the knife fight had only had one person--him--involved. "Didn't have my armor on...I was just at the convenience store, not on patrol."</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Damian wince a little bit, but he tried his best to ignore it. He didn't like upsetting people too much, and that was why he had to leave as soon as possible. They'd be able to move on without him, and then, he wouldn't upset them every time they saw each other. </p><p>Bruce's lips thinned, obviously not liking the fact that his second son had been injured. "And the culprit?"</p><p>"Suffering." It was true too. Jason was <em>not</em> enjoying this one bit. "But alive, unfortunately."</p><p>He was determined not to look at his youngest brother, knowing that he would not be impressed with his wording. Bruce, however, looked a bit relieved. <em>Of course he did.</em> He didn't care about Jason being 'attacked' at all, did he? No, he just had to make sure that he hadn't broken any of his precious rules. Fuck that. What if someone had actually knifed him?</p><p>"So, who is this friend of yours?" Dick set his things aside and looked excitedly at his brother. "I know that no one is really in Gotham right now, so that means they must be a new friend, right?"</p><p>
  <em>Oh, if only you knew how wrong you are. She's been with me since before I could walk.</em>
</p><p>"She's....it doesn't matter." Jason shook his head. "I'm working on the case."</p><p>"They're a she?" His older brother grinned, and Jason felt the strongest urge to bash his head into the wall. "<em>Jason has a lady-friend.</em>"</p><p>"Bitch, Jason is gay as all hell, so no." He grumbled back at Dick.</p><p>"Oh," he blinked. "Jason has a lady <em>space</em> friend."</p><p>
  <em>More accurate.</em>
</p><p>He went back to skimming through the documents that he had been supposed to get the day before, slowly counting the amount of people who had already died. It was too damn high, especially in his area of Gotham. He couldn't help but feel slightly jealous at all of the victims, not for their drug usage but because they had all been permanently taken behind the gates that Death always kept him out of. He had no clue what the fuck he was supposed to do, so how exactly was he supposed to know to do it? It didn't make any sense to Jason. He still felt bad though. All of the people who had died no doubt had family and friends who loved them and would miss them if they were no longer around. They hadn't wanted to die, not like Jason did.</p><p>Not many people had the insight he had on the difference between life and death. Very few people in the world had seen the afterlife and lived to tell the tale, and he had to say that it just seemed <em>so much better</em> than the hell that was the world of the living. It wasn't just because he lived in the squalor of Gotham either; he would prefer death over the most luxurious accommodations available mainly because none of them would have had <em>Roy.</em></p><p>It felt wrong, wanting what the dead people had so much. They'd probably kill to switch places with him, to be alive again, but they just couldn't switch. Death would never approve, and Jason would never be able to convince her otherwise.</p><p>He felt his fingers twitch a bit, a sign that he was definitely thinking about dying too much. He closed his eyes for a second. Jesus fuck, he was messed up. Had he ever even had a chance at living a normal life? Jason had been brought back to life for the first time when he was a literal <em>baby</em>, so it wasn't even Bruce who threw him into the deep end this time. No, he had been...weird his whole life.</p><p>"What are you thinking, Todd?" Damian eyed him. "You have that look on your face again."</p><p>The rest of the group were thrown a bit, not sure as to why the younger boy was mentioning it. But to that point, Damian had also known that Jason had a new friend who had helped him heal from his knife wounds, so maybe they were closer than they had considered. They were glad for it. After all, there was far too much turmoil and infighting in their family. Still, it was odd that they hadn't noticed it before now.</p><p>Jason cracked one of his eyes open. "Bold of you to presume I'm thinking at all."</p><p>The younger brother stared flatly at him. "Why do I even try?"</p><p>"Eh," he shrugged. "I don't know."</p><p>"It's a mystery." He deadpanned. "A real mystery."</p><p>Jason smirked a bit, stretching and eventually coming back to stare at his laptop. "Have you found any patterns on their delivery dates?"</p><p>Tim nodded. "From the data I have, the supplier gets shipments of Venom through the Gotham Harbor once every two weeks on Friday nights at around two in the morning. We were planning on staking the place out next week when the next one arrives."</p><p>"I want in on it."</p><p>"Fine," he shrugged. "It'll be a long night though."</p><p>"I'll bring snacks."</p>
<hr/><p>He hadn't even been back to his safe house for two minutes before the break in. Jason groaned to himself, having just fucking sat down, and looked up to see the exact motherfucker he had been expecting to see: the brat himself, Damian Wayne. He didn't not look very amused, forcing as much menace as his tiny body could muster into his glare.</p><p>"You know, you could have just ridden here with me."</p><p>"I don't trust your driving." He replied coolly. "Who knows? You might decide to crash it."</p><p>He rolled his eyes. "I would never do that with someone else on my bike."</p><p>"It's a problem that you would do so at all." Damian retorted, his fists clenched by his side. "Did Mother not instruct you to only use this...ability of yours as a last resort?"</p><p>"Well, <em>Mother</em> doesn't know how the situation has changed." Jason replied, suddenly fired up in defending his actions. "I have my reasons for doing things, and I am old enough to have the authority to choose to do them if I so please."</p><p>"Suicide is illegal."</p><p>"Only so people can force entry into private property without a warrant in order to save them."</p><p>Damian didn't even blink before launching into his next sentence. "My point is that you do not have the authority to choose to do something illegal."</p><p>"Hasn't stopped me before in the past."</p><p>"In the past, your actions have been more warranted than this." He continued. "You can be helpful on occasion; I'll admit. It would be a pity if you died."</p><p>Jason waved him off. "I have my reasons for doing things." He repeated earnestly.</p><p>"And those are?"</p><p>"To get to the other side, bitch." He responded. "I want to see Roy."</p><p>Damian was silent for a moment. "I see."</p><p>"Understand now?"</p><p>"No." He shook his head. "People all over the world suffer through loss every day, and most of them do not kill themselves. Why should you be condemned to that fate?"</p><p>He raised an eyebrow. "You know that it doesn't last forever with me."</p><p>"Someday, it might." Damian pointed out. "It would be very inconveniencing if you die permanently when I expect you to revive yourself."</p><p>"Whatever. Call me a selfish bastard or something. I don't care, but I want to see Roy." Jason admitted stubbornly.</p><p>"Would Harper want to see you under those circumstances?"</p><p>He bit his lip. "What do you mean?"</p><p>"How guilty do you think he would feel if he knew you were dying just to be with him?" Damian suggested. "He might think that he's responsible for your actions, Ahki."</p><p>"No, he wouldn't think that."</p><p>
  <em>He might.</em>
</p><p>Jason decided to push the idea out of his head. It didn't make him comfortable at all, so into the garbage disposal it went. Damian still looked completely unimpressed with his older brother's decisions and arguments, but he didn't push the topic anymore that night. Instead, he sat down next to Jason.</p><p>After a few moments, he spoke up. "I'm telling Mother."</p><p>"Don't you fucking dare."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Death Meets Jason....Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>RIP a real one</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Damian had stayed the night, rarely letting his older brother out of his sight. Jason found that annoying as all hell, but he didn't mind the kid sticking around in his safe house. Just...he wished that Damian would stay out of the bathroom while he was showering. It wasn't like he was going to <em>drown </em>himself in there. Tim expected him to join their stake out, and he couldn't afford anyone noticing that he had gone "missing" yet again. They would become far too suspicious for his liking.</p><p>The first thing he saw as he woke the next morning was the face of Talia al Ghul staring down at him. He cringed, knowing the inevitable lecture that was coming, but he was confused as well. Talia was supposed to be half-way around the world now...how the hell did she get here so fast? Jason shook his head. He had learned not to ask too any questions.</p><p>"Jason." Her voice was deadly calm, and her expression betrayed no emotion.</p><p>"Err, hi." He wiped the sleep out of his eyes and sat up "Did Damian call you?"</p><p>Talia nodded her head. "He did."</p><p>
  <em>That little bitch.</em>
</p><p>"He told me that you had been killing yourself." She raised an unamused eyebrow. "I thought I had instructed you not to do so."</p><p>"The situation has changed."</p><p>"So Damian tells me." She sat down on the bed next to her adopted son. "The loss of a loved one can be difficult, but you should not let their absence consume you."</p><p>Jason shook his head. "No, you don't get it. I <em>need </em>to see Roy, Mother. He's the only thing that kept me <em>sane</em>."</p><p>"And you must find a way to live for yourself alone, independent of all others." His adoptive mother responded. "I am not the best at this...<em>emotional </em>discussion, but I can get in touch with people who are." The threat was indirect, but it laced her words clearly.</p><p>"I don't need to go to therapy." His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. </p><p>Talia just stared at him. "Everything about this situation indicates that such action is necessary." </p><p>"It's <em>not.</em>" </p><p>"Hmmm," she was silent for a moment. "Your permanent death would cause Damian and I much grief. It would hurt more if it was by your own hand."</p><p>Jason gripped the sheets of his bed tightly. "And as you said, you would find a way to live regardless."</p><p>Talia tried a different approach. "If you saw a Gotham citizen about to jump off a building, would you stop them?"</p><p>"Of course."</p><p>"Then, you must put the same value you place on their life onto your own. Your life is not worth less than anyone else's." She instructed. </p><p>Jason hated these talks. They always made him feel uncomfortable and very, very exposed. Somehow, she always seemed to be able to see through any walls he had up and mercilessly take them all down. It left him too vulnerable, almost like he had gone on patrol with no body armor on. Every word she made felt like an attack, like a knife that stabbed him right in the chest. He didn't know how to cope with that feeling. He hated it.</p><p>"Roy Harper would not approve of you killing yourself just to see him. If he knew about it, he would probably feel terribly guilty."</p><p>He felt the stake hit his heart immediately. She always knew exactly what to say to hit his most sensitive buttons. Would Roy feel bad? Or would he be glad that they are reunited? Jason liked to think that they'd be happy to spend the rest of eternity with the dead. Despite that, he also knew very well that Roy tried to keep him as alive as possible during their time together, so why would that change once Roy was dead? No, Roy would be <em>disappointed, ashamed, angry, sad.</em></p><p>Jason found that he didn't care. He'd take Roy's anger as long as he got to see the archer again.</p><p>"Now, will you amend your ways?" She smiled a smile that promised trouble if he didn't respond correctly. "Or do I need to stay near Gotham for a while?"</p><p>"You're staying near Gotham regardless, aren't you?"</p><p>"I am." Talia glanced out his bedroom door, probably to where Damian was doing god-knows-what. "How close I stay to you, however, is the question."</p><p>He grimaced, a headache building up behind his eyes. "I'll be fine."</p><p>"Are you being honest with me?"</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"Is that a question or an answer?"</p><p>"An answer." Jason stared confidently at her. "I'll be fine. The next time I die won't be by my own hands. I swear to you."</p><p>Maybe this would convince her that he meant business. If she saw that he wasn't behaving as Damian accused of him, she might begin to doubt her younger son's words, and maybe, just maybe, Jason would be able to get her to leave him alone for a while. He wouldn't be so careless with his words in the future that the demon spawn would be able to catch on as easily as he did last time. </p><p>The next time he die might not be on his own accord, but the time after that? Why not? He was a desperate man, and no one could blame him for wanting to see his partner again. </p><p>Talia, however, knew exactly what her oldest was playing at. He was trying to get her to let her guard down, to ease up on her watch. She wouldn't let him win at this game, but she was interested in seeing what he would do if he believed she agreed with him. She tilted her head to the side, her expression softening. Why was it always her sons who felt so much pain? Jason did not often get a break, and when he did, his mind would normally torment him during his waking and sleeping hours. She wished she could stop it, to chase his nightmares away, but it was so much more complex than she could grasp.</p><hr/><p>The stake out came quicker than Jason had thought it would. In a flash, he was sitting with Tim near the docks on Friday at two in the morning, and he didn't know if he was really ready to see the other Bat. What if Tim had discovered something about Jason again? It wouldn't be that surprising. After all, as a child, Tim had figured out the identities of Batman and Robin, so Jason thought that he was right in his fear that Tim's brain might work out another one of his secrets. Luckily, he didn't appear to be too suspicious.</p><p>He had gotten Talia off his back slightly by asking her to go distract Bruce while he was on the stake out. He didn't want Batman showing up on this case; it would be far too stressful. Jason didn't like seeing Bruce that much at all. Not only had he distanced himself from him, abandoned him, and more, but he had also killed him. He often wondered if the man knew he had died. Jason was aware that he did in fact eat shit before Batman had even left the roof of the building with the Joker, so he must have noticed, right? He hated that the man he had cared about so deeply chose his murderer over him, left him to die on a rooftop ready to explode. He <em>hated </em>everything about it.</p><p>"Do you want a cheeto?" Tim held out his bag of snacks to his older brother.</p><p>The two of them were sitting on a nearby rooftop and were merely watching several shady looking men and women unload box after box onto the Gotham docks. No doubt, all of them were full of Venom that would be used across Gotham (though mostly in Red Hood's own turf, Crime Alley and the Narrows), and Jason grit his teeth just thinking about it. The drugs in those boxes would cause the deaths of possibly hundreds of people in the city if they didn't put a stop to it.</p><p>"Don't go down there." His younger brother mumbled, knowing that Jason wanted to leap down there and start shooting. "This is a stake out only."</p><p>"We could easily take them down."</p><p>"We need the information."</p><p>Annoyance prickled under his skin. "Those drugs are going to kill people. If we confiscate them, those people might live."</p><p>"Batman has ordered us to recon only." </p><p>"Fuck Batman."</p><p>Tim sighed. "Listen, Hood, I want to take them down as much as you, but if we get information here, then we could stop <em>even more </em>Venom from coming to Gotham. If we locate the base of operations, the boss, we'll be able to dismantle this organization from the top down."</p><p>"That strategy doesn't always work, Red Robin. Sure, there would be a power vacuum, but there very well may be a second in command able to take over." Jason scoffed. "And when that boss gets out of prison, because we both know that they will, this will all start up again."</p><p>"We're not killing anyone."</p><p>"Well, <em>you </em>might not." </p><p>Drugs always pissed Jason off, especially when they were in his territory harming his people. He had seen so many people succumb to addiction in his lifetime: his mother, street friends (well, <em>allies</em>, really), and random people he would encounter on the streets. Every death made him more and more aware of just how many drugs there were in area and how dangerous they really were. His mother's death had hit the worst though; he had never truly recovered from it.</p><p>"Hood, listen," Tim grabbed his shoulder. "You may want to, but Batman will be so, so pissed if you do."</p><p>"Are you scared of what he'll do to me?" Jason laughed. "Aw, that's so sweet."</p><p>His younger brother looked uncomfortable. "He doesn't always think clearly when it comes to you and killing," he admitted. "I don't want to see anything happen to you. He's trying to be better, but..." He trailed off, shrugging helplessly as if to say <em>What can you do?</em></p><p>So Tim <em>knew </em>that Batman was being an ass. He felt like smirked in satisfaction, but it also disturbed him. If Tim knew that Bruce could be violent towards Jason under any circumstances, why did he stay around the older man? If Tim or Damian or Dick or Cass or anyone made a mistake, who was to say that Bruce wouldn't turn his batarangs against them?</p><p>"There is a crack in your helmet." Tim furrowed his brow. "Where did that come from?"</p><p>Jason frowned, feeling at the top of his head. His brother was right; his helmet was damaged. "I have no idea," he answered honestly. "I didn't know it was there."</p><p>"You should really check your gear before you go out." He admonished. "And you should get it repaired."</p><p>He waved it off. "Eh, who would give a damn if something happened to little old me?"</p><p>There was a loud crack that sounded in the air.</p><hr/><p>"Jason." </p><p>It was Death again. Her bony fingers set down the cup of tea she had been drinking, and she rose gracefully to her feet to greet him.</p><p>"What the fuck just happened?"</p><p>"You got shot." She replied simply. "You should have fixed that helmet of yours."</p><p><em>Ah, </em>Jason grimaced. <em>Fuck.</em> Did that mean that poor Timmy was covered in his brains now? He hoped that the bullet hadn't hit <em>him </em>too; Tim was too good of a man to die like that. He'd take a horrified Red Robin over a dead Red Robin any day.</p><p>...He supposed that Tim's absence in the limbo between life and death was a good sign that he was in fact alive.</p><p>Oh, fuck, what if they <em>buried </em>him again before Death could send him back? He didn't want to wake up in a tiny, dark box six feet underground again. Subconsciously, he knew that he was starting to breathe faster and faster, but he didn't bother stopping it. What if they used a more solid coffin than last time? His first one had been made of wood, but if he got placed in one made of <em>metal</em>, he'd never get out. He'd be trapped underground in an endless loop of suffocating and reviving himself for the rest of eternity.</p><p>"Calm yourself, my friend," she passed him his own cup of tea, and he took it gratefully.</p><p>Her tea was always the best.</p><p>"What if they bury me?"</p><p>"You won't be hear long enough for them to do that." Death brushed off the comment with little concern in her voice. "You did, however, give young Timothy quite a shock just now."</p><p>He groaned. Damn it, he had been trying to keep this one part of his life a secret, and now, there was no way he'd be able to deny anything to Tim. Coming back from the dead once was a miracle. Twice? That's getting a bit suspicious, and Tim would know it. Would he be mad at Jason? Scared maybe? He'd certainly be treated differently.</p><p>Tim wouldn't know by now that Jason was coming back. He had no doubt already reported his murder to the other Bats.....Fuck, everyone was going to know about his little ability now. He let his head fall, so he was looking at the floor. Talia and Damian would be doing damage control with any luck.</p><p>"Can I see anyone?" He asked weakly. Hey, if he was going to be there anyway, he might as well ask, right?</p><p>Death gazed at him sympathetically but shook her head. "Roy has not fully adjusted to this realm yet. Your mother is spending quite a lot of time with him. I might have mentioned to her that he was very important to you, and now, she is very interested in getting to know him."</p><p>Jason smiled a bit, glad that Roy and his mother were meeting. He had always wanted Roy to meet his mom, but he wished that <em>he was there with them.</em></p><p>"Young Timothy was absolutely furious when the shock of your death wore off." She tapped her fingers in a slow but regular pattern. "Found the sniper very quickly."</p><p>"Yeah, he'd be able to figure that out fast." He felt kind of proud of the kid. Based off the angle the bullet entered his head, Tim would be able to calculate all the places a sniper might be hiding with ease.</p><p>She smiled serenely. "He nearly killed the man, but he held off at the last second."</p><p>"Just because he shot me?" Jason's eyes widened in shock. Seriously? He was the black sheep of the family. If he was gone, no one would miss it.</p><p>At least, that was what his understanding had been.</p><p>"Talia, however, I don't think will be so merciful." Death commented. "She is quite angry, partially with herself for not being there to stop this from happening."</p><p>Jason straightened his back. "Could she have stopped it?"</p><p>"No," she shook her head. "You had to die now. Fate decreed it."</p><p>"For what reason?"</p><p>"You've been keeping secrets." Death answered plainly. "We cannot talk for much longer, Jason."</p><p>He furrowed his brow. "Why does it matter if <em>they </em>know that I suck at dying?"</p><p>"I cannot tell you that."</p><p>"Figures." He scoffed. "How much longer can I stay?"</p><p>Death looked at him apologetically, and all went black again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Death: An Explanation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jason returns</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He awoke to darkness. His head pulsed with pain, centering around the place he knew the bullet hole used to be. It was cold, very cold, almost like someone had stuck him in the fucking Arctic or something. He groaned, ignoring the growing sounds of people yelling; it wasn't doing his headache any favors. Jason forced his frozen, stiff fingers up to massage his temple, desperately trying to find some relief, but there was none to be had. His fingers came a way slightly sticky, now coated in drying blood.</p><p>Where the fuck was he? He was freezing his dick off in here. Sighing, he fell silent to listen to the muffled shouting.</p><p>"You are <em>not </em>throwing my son in another coffin!" A woman's voice shrieked; she sounded angry. Talia, maybe?</p><p>"He's <em>dead</em>. What do you want me to do?" The man's voice sounded beat down and broken. He had thought that it could have been Bruce, but he had never heard the man sound like that before. Who could it be? "Did he want to be cremated?"</p><p>Well, <em>that</em> would warm him up at the very least.</p><p>"<em>No!</em> We wait. We wait for when he comes back." She argued.</p><p>He sighed. "Coming back to life once was miraculous, Talia, but I doubt it is something he can pull off again."</p><p>They were talking about him. Jason hit his head against the whatever-the-fuck-he-was-lying-on, hoping that Death would decide to take him back for some reason, any reason but knowing that she wouldn't. This was <em>not</em> a conversation he ever wanted to have, especially not with the Bats of all people. Sure, he felt bad for his head exploding all over Tim, but he'd get over it, right? With every beat of his head against the cold, metal surface, the pain only grew. Feeling around, he found the bullet hole, still fighting to close itself. Maybe that's why he was still bloody.</p><p>None of that mattered. Exhaling quickly, he braced himself for sitting up, knowing it would probably be painful, but when he started, his head quickly slammed against a ceiling. Was he in...a box? Did they put him in a coffin? Talia knew how much he hated being confined; she would never let this happen. His breathing started to quicken, becoming so fast that he hadn't realized that the shouting had ceased. He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes and kicked his legs up to the ceiling once more. If he was in a coffin, maybe he could crack the lid off? That was the hard part.</p><p>Suddenly, whatever he was lying on moved quickly, jutting out of the wall, and the temperature rose immediately. Moving to sit up again, he found that whatever had impeded his first attempt had gone, or perhaps he had just moved away from it. Jason gasped, his breaths coming in short bursts, but he was quickly pulled into a smaller form.</p><p>"You were not buried, my son." Talia murmured against his cheek. "He insisted you be put in the freezer while we, ah, <em>discussed</em> what would happen to your body."</p><p>He wasn't buried. He wasn't six feet under. He was in a wide open space, and Jason finally managed to wrench his hands away from his face. Bruce was standing a little more than two meters away from him, his mouth wide open and his eyes big. Jason gave him his best glower, trying to send all the energy he had been using while panicking towards the older man.</p><p>
  <em>Bruce had wanted to bury me, the bastard.</em>
</p><p>"Jaylad..." He trailed off, but soon he cleared his throat and continued. "I must tell the others of these events."</p><p>"There is no need." Talia waved him off. "I sent Damian up about three hours ago to keep them away and give Jason some space. He can give them the news."</p><p>"He knows? You know?" The older man furrowed his brow. "...Is there anything <em>to</em> know?"</p><p>"Yes," she responded simply, but it was clear that she would give him no information beyond that.</p><p>Bruce nodded his head and swallowed heavily. "Jay...how?"</p><p>Jason shrugged, but when he spoke, it was more to himself than anyone else. "God, fuck you. Put me in a freezer...Slow down my healing...Bullshit."</p><p>His mother frowned and turned his head to examine the wound. "Yes, I think some stitches would be a good idea, my love." She sent him a sharp glare, startling the man to action.</p><p>"Uh, yeah, of course." His eyes didn't leave his second son for a moment, eating him up as though he would never see Jason again, but his arms robotically found the necessary supplies.</p><p>Jason coughed abruptly. "Let Talia do it."</p><p>Bruce looked slightly put out by his words, but Jason didn't care. He didn't completely trust the older man, hadn't in many, many years. Talia, on the other hand, was safe and trustworthy. She wouldn't hurt him, wouldn't take advantage of him in ways that he feared. </p><p>The door to the Batcave slammed open, and the sound of numerous footsteps thundering down the stairs filled the air. Each of the Bats piled at the bottom of the stairs, Alfred making his way down them much more gracefully. Their eyes were glued to Jason, greedily taking in his presence, and he wished it would stop. Why couldn't they go back to ignoring him like they used to? He thought that he would rather be the black sheep than the center of attention; this was uncomfortable.</p><p>"I...apologize, Mother, Ahki. They were disagreeable when I suggested that they stay put." Damian dug himself out of the pile and peered meekly at his mother, knowing that he had failed the task she had set out for him.</p><p>Jason shook his head and shot a look to Talia. "They were always going to do that. They're annoying like that."</p><p>"I did not expect your resurrection to take so long." He narrowed his eyes.</p><p>"Yeah, well, <em>someone</em> threw my corpse in a freezer. That does tend to slow things down a bit." He shrugged, ignoring how the rest of the group visibly flinched at the reminder.</p><p>"How are you still alive?" Tim demanded, his fists clenched tightly on his sides.</p><p>He took a moment to gauge his younger brother's appearance. There was an unrecognizable fury in his eyes, one that didn't seem to die out; he wondered if that was what the sniper had seen when they encountered Red Robin. He was also completely covered in blood, not having taken the time to clean himself before being expelled from the Batcave, or perhaps he had been keeping the blood on him because it was <em>Jason.</em></p><p>"I think we all want to know that." Dick looked him up and down. His face was wet, and he bit his lip. "I'm glad you're alive, little wing. I didn't know what I was going to do."</p><p>
  <em>Well, that makes one of us.</em>
</p><p>Jason turned his eyes away, but he held his head still as his mother finished stitching the hole back together. Her hands were gentle, and while she was cursing under her breath in Arabic, he knew that those words were meant mainly for the Bats. Maybe a little for him, but what else was new?</p><p>"This death could have been prevented. You should not be so careless." Talia's hand moved down to grip his shoulder.</p><p>"Eh," he waved it off. "I don't care if I live or die. It all ends the same, doesn't it?"</p><p>She groaned. "That's the problem. You should care, and you <em>will</em> make it a habit to check your gear before going out." She didn't say 'or else,' but it was implied heavily.</p><p>"I'm alive now, aren't I?"</p><p>"That's not the point."</p><p>Cass was the first Bat to approach him. The others looked at her uneasily as she did so, but she ignored all their warning glances. Jason's eyes followed her. She was one of his favorite siblings. Once she got to Jason, she did something that surprised him. She poked him on the nose, but otherwise, nothing else happened. He went cross eyed following her finger. Once she determined that he was in fact still alive, she seemed more satisfied.</p><p>"How?"</p><p>"I get punted back and forth across the astral plain. Nothing new." He answered her.</p><p>Bruce was quick to jump on him for his wording. "It <em>sounds</em> new. Jaylad, we all knew that you came back from the dead once, but we had know idea you could do so multiple times."</p><p>"Yeah, well, whatever."</p><p>"Why did you keep it from us?"</p><p>Jason shot him a quick glare. "Why would it be any of your goddamn business?"</p><p>"You are family."</p><p>"Well, I haven't exactly been very <em>buddy-buddy</em> with you guys." He rolled his eyes. "Why would I tell you shits anything? It's not like you ever noticed anyway."</p><p>Not even Alfred was speaking up to correct his language. His grandson needed to let this out of his system, and he would not interrupt him from doing so.</p><p>Tim's jaw was tense. "You should have told us. We could have...helped you." He fell silent once more.</p><p>Jason could tell that the other Bats were just itching to physically touch him, but knowing them, it would probably be more extensive than Cass's boop on the nose. Dick would probably want to <em>hug </em>and<em> cuddle.</em> Ew. He would avoid that if at all possible, thanks.</p><p>"How many times have you....died?" Tim hesitated on the last word. He didn't look up, just continued examining the blood encrusted under his nails.</p><p>"A fuck ton." He deadpanned. "Does it really matter the number?"</p><p>"Yes," his older brother gasped out. "Yes, it does."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Because that is the number of times that you<em> died, </em>that we lost you!" Dick exclaimed. "Of course it matters."</p><p>
  <em>Didn't always seem to matter to you, Big Bird.</em>
</p><p>"Can you start at the beginning?" Bruce implored, eyes round as he stared at his son.</p><p>Jason wished he would look away. He hadn't been on the receiving end of a look like that, a look that screamed that the man <em>cared</em> about him, since he was Robin. It hurt to see, sent tingling shocks around his nervous system.</p><p>"It would be wise to tell them, Ahki." Damian jumped onto the bed Jason had been sat on and crossed his legs. "You know they will not shut up if you ignore them. They will pester you until they are satisfied with the responses they receive."</p><p>The kid was right. Why did he have to be right? Jason would rather lie down and go the fuck to <em>sleep.</em> Sleep sounded nice. Maybe his head wouldn't pound as much as it was now after he woke up.</p><p>He groaned. "Fine, the beginning. I was born premature, had shitty lungs, and died. By the time I came back, the doctors had already called it quits ten minutes prior."</p><p>"That young?" Tim's eyebrows skyrocketed upwards. "So this isn't a new thing."</p><p>"No, I told you that much already," he snarked and shook his head. "Ate shit a few more times before Bruce picked me up. Ate shit a few times as Robin. Ate shit a few times after. Can I leave now?"</p><p>Dick spluttered. "That's hardly as <em>detailed</em> as it should be, little wing."</p><p>"You died under my care multiple times?" Bruce furrowed his brow. </p><p>"Running around in underwear doesn't really provide much protection." Jason grinned dryly. "And those colors...the costume makes for great target practice."</p><p>His older brother shifted uncomfortably. "I never died while wearing them."</p><p>"Yeah, well, people liked you better." He shrugged. "I'm the mean one."</p><p>"That doesn't mean they should have killed you!"</p><p>"Well, they did, but I got better. It doesn't matter anymore. I certainly freaked a few of them the fuck out." Jason brushed it off.</p><p>Damian arched one of his eyebrows. "Is that not how Felipe Garzonas died?"</p><p>Bruce's eyes locked onto Jason's again. "What is he talking about, Jaylad?"</p><p>"What? You didn't believe me the first time, so why would you believe me now?" He laughed. "Is it because it's Damian who is saying it? Because you've never trusted me that much."</p><p>"Jay-"</p><p>"Garzonas shot me, went out on the balcony to smoke, and freaked out so much upon seeing what he probably thought was a zombie--me--that he fell off." His laugh turned into a cackle. "Did you  not <em>wonder</em> why I was bloody afterwards?"</p><p>The older man blinked. "Of course I did-"</p><p>"And yet you ignored every piece of evidence and blamed me for something I didn't do." He sneered. "I would have taken the blame if I did kill him, but <em>no,</em> you didn't believe my word, not a single word I said." Huffing, he turned away.</p><p>"...I'm sorry, Jaylad."</p><p>"A few years too late, don't you think?"</p><p>The conversation seemed to age Bruce more than Jason had seen before. "Better late than never?" He asked weakly.</p><p>"Why do you fucking care anyway?" Jason challenged. "You never seemed to care before."</p><p>"Of course I cared!" He looked almost offended, a hurt expression settling over his face.</p><p>Tim nodded his head in disagreement. "Your death--the one we knew about, at least--tore him apart, Jason."</p><p>"Eh, maybe that one did, but the others certainly didn't."</p><p>Bruce paused. "Jason, I didn't know about any of your other deaths."</p><p>"You should have! You're directly responsible for one of them!" The volume of his voice grew until he was almost shouting at the other man.</p><p>"What are you talking about? I don't kill, Jason." He bit his lip. "And I would never kill you." Bruce shook his head vehemently.</p><p>He clenched his fist and hit it repeatedly against the table next to him. How dare he? He <em>had </em>to know what happened. Bruce hadn't even left the rooftop by the time he had died, so he must have seen. Regardless, how did he expect someone suffering from severe blood loss to be able to escape the explosion in time? Why was he lying?</p><p>"My son is speaking the truth." Talia growled out. "It is not your place to accuse him of lying again."</p><p>His siblings were looking nervous, a few of them dancing around on their feet. Dick's jaw was as tensed as was possible, and Tim fiddled with a random gadget from his belt. So they didn't know. Of course they didn't. Batman would never have told them anything that would damage his reputation.</p><p>"What are you talking about, little wing?"</p><p>"Don't you know?" He was going to have some fun with this. "In a bid to save the life of the Joker, dearest Batman slit my throat with a batarang and left me to die on top of a building rigged to explode. I bled out before he even left the roof we were on." </p><p>He had barely finished his sentence before the Bat himself surged into him, his arms nearly crushing his ribcage. The older man's breath was clearly hitching in his throat, but Jason felt no tears as the man buried his face in the crook of his neck. It was awkward, but it also felt kind of nice, not that Jason would admit it. His body was still cold as fuck from the goddamn freezer...any body heat would have been pleasant. It didn't have anything to do with the fact that this was Bruce, the man whose affections he had wanted for so long. Nope. Not at all.</p><p>"Bruce, what the fuck?" Jason heard Dick's unpleasant screech behind him.</p><p>
  <em>Wow, nice, did anyone notice that I still have a fucking hole in my head? Concussion? So disrespectful. The audacity. I am hurting over here.</em>
</p><p>Jason stiffened under his father's grasp, going completely still. Why the fuck was Bruce doing this? When would he let go? The child inside of him that still ached for parental affections was doing cartwheels, but he also felt angry. Bruce only gave a shit now because it was evidence that he broke his own precious rules, so it had nothing to do with Jason. From the corner of his eye, he could see Talia raising one of her eyebrows, but she voiced no concerns.</p><p>"Imagine if I stayed dead then, Bruce. What would you have done then, eh?" He wrestled his way out of the older man's grip (which was a lot harder than he thought it would be).</p><p>"I would have died."</p><p>Jason rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."</p><p>"I am not. I would have died." He responded, his eyes finally watering.</p><p>"I believe he is being truthful." Damian looked to his mother for confirmation, and she nodded in agreement.</p><p>The youngest Wayne son hadn't known about that particular death, and it too came as a shock to him. Batman didn't kill, and to think that he would kill his own son to help a psychotic murderer get away...it was difficult. He didn't know what to think. On one hand, he now seemed to be deeply regretting his actions, but would he have if his Ahki never brought it up?</p><p>"How the fuck could you do that?" Dick's voice got louder once more.</p><p>Bruce was silent again, too focused on staring at his second son. How, indeed. He didn't have a good answer. There <em>was</em> no good answer.</p><p>"You should have let the Joker die." Tim scoffed. "It would have done Gotham a whole lot of good."</p><p>The other Bats all mumbled their agreements. The Joker had killed far too many people to be allowed to continue to live, especially since he always seemed to break out of his cells. How many people's lives would have been saved if they had taken care of the psychotic clown earlier? Gotham would have looked completely different.</p><p>"How does Damian know?" Tim spoke up again.</p><p>"Tt." Damian scooted a bit closer to his Ahki, not enough to be noticeable to anyone but him. "Idiot got himself shot."</p><p>Jason narrowed his eyes. "I seem to recall I got shot while protecting you from a dumbass decision."</p><p>"Technicalities," he waved it off. "His body fell on me. It was quite heavy." </p><p>"Was my body heavy, or was your body just small?" </p><p>Talia put her hands on both of their shoulders. "I'm sure it was a mixture of both."</p><p>"My body was...is not small, mother."</p><p>She ignored him but patted his shoulder once more. "Now that you all know," she addressed the Bats. "You can help in limiting the number of times he dies, yes?"</p><p>"Of course," Dick shook his head so rapidly that Jason was surprised it didn't fall off.</p><p>Jason glared at Talia. He knew exactly what she was doing. She was trying to get them all to watch him more closely, and if they did that, it would be even more difficult to off himself and go see Roy. He understood her motivation. Jason would drop anything in an instant to save a civilian's life, but his situation was so much different. Did she not see that?</p><p>"Good," Talia nodded. "He has died many different ways as I'm sure you all have realized."</p><p>Cass cocked her head to the side. "I will protect little brother from enemies."</p><p>"Can you protect him from himself?" She challenged.</p><p>Jason flinched. She did it. There it was.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Protect Him From Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Talia said the exact words that Jason didn't want her to say. Dick has feelings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The serious expression fell off of Dick's face as he processed Talia's words. "What...What do you mean?" His eyebrows rose to his hairline.</p><p>"I meant exactly what I said." She responded. "The threat to my son's life is not always an external one."</p><p>The eldest Wayne son did not like what she was implying. It was bad enough to say that Jason hurt himself, but in this context, she was saying that he was <em>responsible for some of his deaths.</em> She was saying that his little brother had killed himself, possibly on multiple occasions. His eyes fell on that brother. Jason was doing his best to escape from the situation, but he only got as far as Alfred. The man they all saw as a grandfather had gotten some tea out of nowhere (a magic trick Dick was still hoping to learn) and had given some to Jason. Now, Jason was a sucker for Alfred and tea, so of course he stayed although he was a few feet away from them now.</p><p>"Jaylad?" Dick winced as he heard Bruce's voice crack.</p><p>He hadn't heard it do that in a long time.</p><p>Jason ignored the older man, instead choosing to take a long, obnoxiously loud sip from his tea cup as if to say <em>'LA LA LA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!' </em> Now, in any other situation, Dick would have found this hilarious, but this was no laughing matter. It was common knowledge that vigilantes, especially the Bats, were prone to having mental health problems. He had been wrong to assume that Jason would be immune to suicidal behavior. Dick had thought that Jason wouldn't want to return to the dead since he knew what it was like, since he was able to make that comparison. Maybe death really was that much better than life, and that was why Jason wanted to go back. Dick couldn't be sure of his little brother's reasoning, not without asking him and receiving an honest response.</p><p>He wrestled with the idea that Jason had died and come back, died and come back over and over again already, but this? This was even worse. He couldn't imagine his little brother dying when he was a literal <em>baby</em> before he could walk or talk or do anything at all. He hated knowing now that the Robin costume, one that <em>he had picked out and designed</em>, had gotten his brother shot and killed time and time again. The constant back and forth must have been draining on him, not to mention confusing, so Dick wasn't too surprised that he had even more emotional issues to boot. That didn't mean that this new information didn't hurt though.</p><p>"I believe that everyone here asking questions all at once is stressing Master Jason out." Alfred straightened his back.</p><p>"Jason?" Tim asked hesitantly.</p><p>The obnoxious sipping started again, and Jason looked pointedly at the wall in front of him before dropping his cup and sighing. "I'm not stressed, Alfie. There are just some things that people don't need to know."</p><p>Bruce spluttered. "I...I think we <em>do</em> need to know, son, if you're killing yourself."</p><p>"I'm not!" Jason scoffed at him. </p><p>"Liar," Damian commented, narrowing his eyes at his older brother. "You're a liar."</p><p>He shot the boy a glare. "You can shut the fuck up."</p><p>"You literally did it about a week ago!" The youngest Wayne son moved to stand, his voice growing in volume. "'Got into a knife fight in a convenience store,' my ass!"</p><p>"Hey, I talked to you about that <em>in confidence</em>." Jason face twisted into a snarl. "You aren't supposed to snitch on me!"</p><p>Dick's eyes flicked back and forth between his two brothers as though he was watching a tennis match. He wanted desperately to intervene, to ask them for details, but the voice was caught in his throat. He remembered Jason talking about that knife fight. Had he missed that meeting because he had been <em>dead?</em> The very thought shook him to his core and chilled his heart, and he wondered about many things, mainly <em>'Why didn't he come ask for help?'</em></p><p>He must have been an idiot if he didn't see that he was struggling. Perhaps they all were. It seemed so obvious now. The anger in his voice and the pain in his eyes all exemplified the struggle that must be going on in his brain, and Dick wished he could make that all stop. Jason deserved to be happy for once. He deserved to be happy for the rest of his hopefully long life, but Jason didn't deserve the curse of living <em>forever</em> either. What were they to do?</p><p>"Jason! Damian!" Talia's sharp voice cut through the chaos. "Both of you sit down right now and watch your mouths."</p><p>The two quarreling brothers froze and turned to look at the woman. Dick thought that they might continue despite her intervention, but to his surprise, both of them sat down with slightly guilty expressions on their faces. That was not to say that they didn't shoot each other annoyed glares--because they did,--but at least they were not shouting at one another anymore. He wordlessly breathed a sigh of relief, exhaling a breath that he didn't even know he had been holding. Talia al Ghul was a force to be reckoned with even to her children.</p><p>He shot a glance towards Bruce, and the older man looked as though his whole life just got pulled out from under him as though it was a rug. Dick couldn't blame him. This was pretty...life changing news, and it was news that they should have already known about. When he looked up, the devastation in his gaze was clear. Bruce had been destroyed by the one death he had known about before, so the fact that it had happened many, many times before was probably absolutely demolishing whatever faculties the man was using to try to remain calm. Dick didn't feel too calm either. He wanted to rush over and envelope his baby brother in his arms and never let go. That probably wouldn't end well though, and he'd have bruises (or worse) for weeks if he did so.</p><p>Bruce eventually found his voice. "Explain?" </p><p>"Explain what?" Jason raised a sharp eyebrow, clearly not having much patience for this conversation.</p><p>"...Last week."</p><p>Dick saw their father's jaw clench so hard that he was sure that the man was straining his masseters. Despite this, Bruce didn't close his mouth completely, obviously still trying to speak, but the few words he had managed thus far had all been riddled with emotion and voice cracks that were uncharacteristic of the man. Dick wondered whether or not Bruce might pass out from the overwhelming surge of emotions in the room at the moment. He had never had as much experience with them as someone like Dick had had. Perhaps the Wayne patriarch would simply...fall apart or break into pieces.</p><p>The second Wayne son sighed and turned to face Alfred. The two of them seemed to have some sort of silent conversation that Dick was unable to understand, but soon enough, Jason faced them again. He didn't look very happy, quite the opposite really. Did that mean that Alfred had managed to convince him to talk to them for once without saying a single word? Dick was impressed, but then again, the older man had always been able to work magic.</p><p>"I did die, but-"</p><p>"Honestly, please." Damian interjected. "I know exactly what happened that night, and so does Mother. You will not be able to lie here."</p><p>Jason's lips thinned into a line, but he didn't speak again until Alfred put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Fine, I did do it myself. I had some business to attend to on the other side, and well, I can't really do that while I'm still alive."</p><p>"What sort of business?" Tim demanded, biting his lip so hard that Dick was surprised that it didn't start bleeding.</p><p>The third Wayne son stumbled forward a few steps and obviously wanted to come closer, but he was keeping his distance. Dick wondered how much of a struggle it was for him. He certainly found it hard after all, and Tim had been the one to watch him die last, to be showered in his own brother's blood and brains and skull fragments. For the first time, he noticed that Tim was still covered in all those substances, and he wasn't sure how that had escaped his attention. Dick wrinkled his nose slightly; his brother probably needed to <em>bathe</em> several times before all that would come off of him. Dried blood was always the <em>worst</em> to get out of hair or clothes.</p><p>"You know, the normal stuff." He shrugged. "People to see, things to talk about."</p><p>"He went up to be with his lover." Damian raised an unimpressed eyebrow when Jason turned to glare at him. "He thought that he might be able to convince Death to let him stay."</p><p>His breath catching in his throat, Dick turned to look at his brother and schooled his face to not show his confusion. "Who was he?" Sympathy bled from his voice.</p><p>He honestly hadn't pictured Jason being with anyone <em>ever</em> really, and since he had just learned that he was gay that week, he hadn't had much time to think about who Jason might be interested in. Damian had made it clear though that whomever it was was dead. His heart ached for his little brother instantly; hadn't he already been through enough? He didn't need to suffer through yet another loss. It also made his 'power' to resurrect himself (more like a curse perhaps) a bit more...depressing. Dick could infer based off of their conversation that coming back from the dead wasn't something Jason was actively choosing to do. It was something thrust upon him, and if it never stopped, if Jason never got to permanently cross over, he'd never get to see his lover ever again.</p><p>"I don't want to talk about him, and Damian won't either if he knows what's good for him." Jason shot a warning glance to the younger boy.</p><p>"I was not going to tell them anyway. If I wished to reveal his identity, I could have said his name instead of 'lover' very easily." Damian bit back instantly.</p><p>Alfred cleared his throat loudly to attract the attention of everyone in the room. "As I do not wish to cause Master Jason or anyone else more distress, I believe we have spoken enough about this topic for now. I suggest we all do some relaxing for the rest of the day, and absolutely <em>no patrols</em> tonight, understand?" The tone of his voice left no room for any arguments.</p><p>Dick nodded his head numbly. He desperately wanted more answers, but Jason would not respond well to even more pestering at the moment. He could wait. He'd have to.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Death and the Waiting Game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jason is silent.<br/>And then, he is silent.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How long was long enough?</p><p>After Alfred had disbanded their last family meeting, they had all been waiting for enough time to pass until they could get more answers and alleviate (or exacerbate) more of their worries, but none of them wanted to risk broaching the topic too soon. They weren't sure how Jason would react. He could run far away, hide from them for months, or maybe even harm himself. Tim shuddered at the last point, knowing now that that was a very real possibility. He had suspected self harm out of Jason in the past; he like many other vigilantes had their own list of mental problems. Never had he imagined quite how right he was or to what extent that self harm went. To be fair, he hadn't known that it was possible for Jason to die over and over and over again; he had thought just like the rest of them that his resurrection after being murdered by the Joker was a fluke, a miracle.</p><p>Being faced with the truth was daunting. He couldn't stop twitching, and he needed to know more. What were his brother's patterns? Was there a method by which he would most likely try to die again? Tim knew that Jason could be plenty creative, but there must be a way to predict his actions before it was too late. He knew he would have nightmares about watching his older brother's head explode all over him for a long, long time. Tim was almost resentful that Jason hadn't checked his gear before going out. It might not have made a difference, but it would have given him a chance.</p><p>If that was the case, however, they wouldn't have found out about Jason's little 'ability.' They wouldn't have been told about his more concerning habits, and they wouldn't know to watch out for things like that. Jason would have kept doing what he always did: dying (occasionally by his own hand) over and over. Luckily, they did know now, but Tim wished they had found out under different circumstances.</p><p>He was almost tempted to ask Jason what it was like to be dead, but he knew damn well that that wouldn't go down well at all. Unfortunately, that did little to stop the morbid little curiosities from dancing across Tim's brain. Was the afterlife nice? Or was it more like hell? Just like everyone else in the family, Tim had lost people over the course of his life, so of course he wanted to know if they would be happy amongst the dead.</p><p>Later the same day of Jason's resurrection, Tim found him in the library. It had taken the combined forces of Alfred Pennyworth and Talia al Ghul to convince Jason to stay at the manor at least for a little while, but it was clear by the look on his face that he wasn't the happiest about it. That didn't matter though. If he stayed here, he was around more people and much less likely to succeed in harming himself. </p><p>Before he could even open his mouth, Jason held up his hand and without looking up from his book spoke. "Don't."</p><p>Tim didn't open his mouth, only taking a seat next to his older brother and staring at a spot on the ground about ten feet away. He understood why Jason didn't want to talk to him; death must be a painful discussion topic. While he had many, many questions, there was one thing that he thought did not get discussed enough earlier, and that was the fact that Bruce had killed Jason before. It had gotten loss in an overwhelming pile of information and emotions. All of the bats seemed to have decided that to focus on the current threat, which was Jason's self destructive behavior. Tim didn't blame them for that, but that wasn't the only problem that needed to be addressed. </p><p>His silence seemed to unnerve his brother, and he snapped his book shut before turning to Tim and saying, "What the fuck do you want from me?"</p><p>Tim shrugged. "What does everyone else want?"</p><p>Jason growled. "I already talked today."</p><p>"Does it hurt?" He asked. "You know, the wound on your head?"</p><p>"Of course it fucking does." The taller man scoffed. </p><p>Tim knew better than to offer to go get him some pain killers. None of the regular strength Tylenol or Advil they had in the medicine cabinet would be effective on him, not since the Lazarus Pit accelerated his metabolism, and he knew Jason would never accept something stronger. It didn't take a genius to figure out why. Drugs had stolen Jason's mother away from him, and they had made his life hell for years.</p><p>"If you don't leave, I will." Jason's lip twitched up into a snarl.</p><p>"Why?" Tim furrowed his brow. "What about my presence is bothering you?"</p><p>"You're not doing anything! You're just sitting there staring off into the void, and it's weird! You're a creepy cookie, Tim." His hands tightened around his book.</p><p>The younger of the two shrugged. "I don't think you should be alone right now."</p><p>Jason laughed. "Why? You worried I'm going to go run and put a bullet in my head? Or drown myself in the bathroom? Maybe I'll even find a knife and maim myself again; that was fun, wasn't it?"</p><p>Tim suppressed the urge to flinch, knowing that that was what his brother wanted him to do. He was trying to scare Tim off. Jason was saying so many things, but none of them were what he wanted to hear. He was essentially silent. </p><p>"Would you do it again?" He asked.</p><p>His brother, however, didn't seem to be able to hear him anymore. Jason had gone back to his book, and he flicked a page over in response to his question. Tim tapped his foot nervously. He didn't like his brother's sudden inability to respond; it probably meant that Tim wouldn't like the honest answer. The younger brother leant back in his chair and started staring at the wall again. He was patient; he'd just have to play the long game.</p>
<hr/><p>Bruce frowned as he noticed that his second son hadn't shown up for dinner. In fact, Talia was missing too, and the two spots at the table set out for them were empty. He could see that his other children were curious--and a bit nervous--as to why they hadn't shown up.</p><p>Sensing the question about to be ask, Alfred spoke up, "Master Jason did not wish to come down, and I did not want to press him to do so. He is staying with Miss Talia in their room for dinner."</p><p>He nodded his head, not missing a beat. Talia had demanded that she be set up in the same room as Jason earlier because she didn't want to risk him doing anything destructive at nighttime when everyone else was asleep. Jason would be a lot less likely to attempt suicide if there was someone in the room to stop him, especially if that someone was Talia, so Bruce had that at least to give him a small amount of peace of mind. He could see some of the others holding back their protests, and while Bruce would rather have Jason in his line of sight just like they did, he wasn't about to force him down here. As long as his son was safe, that was all that mattered to him.</p><p>"Why did you throw that batarang?" Tim spoke up, voicing the concern that had been plaguing his thoughts for hours.</p><p>Bruce sighed, knowing that this would have come up eventually anyway. "It was a...mistake."</p><p>"A mistake?" Dick snorted, clearly angry with the older man. "B, that was a fucking catastrophe." He absentmindedly shoved a few dollar bills in Alfred's direction to make up for his cursing.</p><p>He nodded numbly. There was nothing else he could say. He shouldn't have done that, but he did. There was no way he could change the past. He just had to hope that his son would be magnanimous enough to forgive his past mistakes (and boy, there were a lot of them). Bruce fell silent again, glancing in the direction that he knew Jason's bedroom was in as though he'd be able to see through the walls to make sure he was okay.</p><p>"You hurt him." Cass scolded.</p><p>"You killed him." Damian corrected his sister. "How would you have felt if he hadn't come back to life?"</p><p> Bruce bit his lip. "Same thing that I told Jason. I would have died."</p><p>"You made the wrong decision that night."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>They fell silent again. Bruce would never be able to forgive himself. That was for damn certain. He had hurt; no, he had killed his son. Thankfully, Jason had been able to come back. He had been in a dark place after he had thought Jason was dead for good the last time, and it would have been a whole lot worse if his permanent death had been by Bruce's own hand. He flicked his eyes around the table, pausing for a moment on each of his children. They all deserved a better father than him, someone who could give them what they needed. Bruce had money that he could throw at his problems, but he had never been good at being emotionally supportive.</p><p>"Therapy," his only daughter pointed at him.</p><p>"I think that would be a wonderful idea for Master Bruce." Alfred sent him a pointed look. "In fact, I think all of you would benefit from that."</p><p>
  <em>Especially Jason.</em>
</p><p>Bruce bit his lip and turned away. He was a murderer. Batman had one rule, and he had broken it with his own son, no less. He had struck the final nail in the coffin that drove Jason away from them. Why should Jason forgive him? Every time his son saw him, he saw the face of one of his murderers. He had betrayed his son, killed Jason when he was supposed to kill the Joker, but he had been so obsessed with saving the clown's life that he grew careless with how he handled the situation. Jason wasn't supposed to die. The batarang was supposed to knock the gun out of his hand, nothing more. Since he killed his son, did he even deserve to wear the bat symbol on his chest anymore?</p><p>He had never been to therapy before, not even after his parents died. It would be an unfamiliar experience, and he wouldn't know what to do or say the entire time. Bruce hated not knowing, but he'd have to make the sacrifice. It wasn't like he could Google search "How to make your son, whom you murdered, forgive you?" No, this was the best shot he had at figuring out how to make things right (if he could even make things right).</p><p>Now, Bruce had gotten into contact with Dinah Lance earlier after Talia told them all about Jason's more destructive habit, but he'd have to do so again. Alfred was right as always. Everyone in this family had their own boatload of trauma that he knew threatened to topple them over at any time, and he should have taken the initiative to get them some help years ago. Bruce swallowed heavily. He was a bad father, but he would try to get better.</p><p>Jason didn't come out from his room for the rest of the night and didn't open the door for anyone but Talia. Even Damian was banned for snitching on him. He found himself tapping his fingers and hoping that Jason would come through the door, but he knew that he wouldn't. Why would he?</p><p>He sighed, glancing at the nearby clock. If Alfred hadn't banned patrol (and emergency deadlocked the Batcave, something Bruce didn't even know that he could do), they'd all be suiting up to go out into the Gotham night, but for now, it was silent.</p><p>Everything was silent.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Attempt at Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jason is tired.<br/>And annoyed. You can't forget annoyed. That's important.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He felt Talia's eyes on him constantly. Jason supposed he should have expected that given what Damian had done, but the little snitch had probably drastically exaggerated what had happened. Damian was a demon like that, complete hell spawn. He should have known not to spill the tea to him. Whatever. He just wished that Talia would look away for a little bit. What did she expect him to do? Shove his head under the sink and hope to drown?</p><p>No, Talia knew that he was far more capable of ending his own life than he had suggested. Jason would never overdose, not after he saw what happened to his mom, but pretty much everything else was fair game. Annoyingly, he had had his guns and knives stripped from him while he had been dead. He hadn't had a chance to replace them yet, and Alfred hadn't given him much to work with later that night either. He had given both Talia and him food earlier, but he had notably refused to give them knives. Jason knew that Alfred only wanted what was best for him. That didn't mean that it didn't irritate the hell out of him. Sure, he could make do with the other utensils, but the absence of the knife had been a glaring reminder that they knew about his habits.</p><p>Eventually, he decided to climb into bed and dramatically glare at Talia, his arms crossed across his chest. He knew he was behaving like a petulant child, but he didn't care. She didn't appear to notice his protests. She'd glance up at him every few seconds, but mostly, her attention was on the book. At least, that was what it seemed to be on. Jason knew that looks could be deceiving, especially hers.</p><p>He wondered if enough time had passed for him to see Roy yet. How long could it possibly take for a spirit to get settled in? Jason started to tap his fingers on his thigh, and he narrowed his eyes. Talia was observant, but surely, there had to be some way to get around her. It wasn't like she was some all seeing god or something. She was human and had human needs, such as sleep, just like everyone else did, and it wasn't like she was immune to making mistakes or something.</p><p>"What is going through your head, habibi?"</p><p>Jason looked up to see that the woman who had practically adopted him had put her book down and was staring at him. "Nothing," he answered glumly.</p><p>"We both know that isn't true." Her expression turned stern.</p><p>"I'm tired," he sighed.</p><p>Talia furrowed her brow in sympathy. "And I assume you are not speaking of a physical tiredness?"</p><p>"That too, but mostly...just tired."</p><p>It was difficult for him to describe what he was feeling at the moment. Exhaustion had swept through his entire being and had numbed all of his senses. He wanted to be angry with the bats, furious even, but the most he could muster was irritation. Why couldn't they treat him as they always did? It wasn't like anything had changed; they just had more information now. He sank lower onto the bed and pulled the sheets almost completely over him. </p><p>During times like these, he usually wished that he was normal. Jason should have died when he was an infant, and even if he had survived, he would have passed on the street after eating contaminated food and drinking contaminated water. It would have been much simpler if he had just been allowed in the afterlife in peace. Unfortunately, however, that had not been the hand he had been dealt, so he kept on getting kicked back and forth across the astral plane. Being dead one moment and alive the next was jarring and exhausting, and all he really wanted was to get a chance to rest for once in his life (and death).</p><p>"I wish that I could ease your pain." Talia spoke as she stood up from her seat. </p><p>Damn. He must've looked pretty pitiful if she felt the need to say that. He jutted his chin out defiantly and looked anywhere but her. Why didn't they understand? He didn't belong in the world of the living, not since he had started dying as a baby again and again. Sometimes, there were extended periods of time when he would stay alive, but it always felt like he was living a false life. Coming back from the dead like he could wasn't natural after all. How come he, a certified human disaster, get to stay alive when so many better, more deserving people died? Jason had a dark feeling that everyone's lives would be so much easier if he wasn't in it.</p><p>"Get some sleep, Jason." Her voice was soft, but he could tell that she wasn't going to budge.</p><p>The sky had grown dark during the time the two of them had spent in their room. Normally, the bats would be preparing for patrol, but Alfred had yet to unlock the Batcave for them. Tonight would be quiet for the family. Unfortunately, that also meant that there were more people around that he'd have to avoid. Jason really didn't feel like conversing with them, especially knowing exactly what they would want to talk about. Answering their questions had left him an exhausted shell earlier, and he did not desire a repeat performance.</p><p>He shifted under the blanket until it covered his face, and the only part of him visible was a few tufts of black and white hair. When he felt her hand run through it, straightening it out and unknotting it, he didn't protest and just leaned into her touch. He briefly wondered if Damian was annoyed at him for hogging their mother (after all, she didn't come around that often), but Jason still didn't want to see the traitor. Was he overreacting? Maybe a little. He didn't care.</p><p>Jason wasn't sure when he drifted off, but he must've at some point. He couldn't remember exactly what he had dreamed about. All he had were bittersweet feelings in him; he guessed he had been dreaming about Roy again. The archer had been a common motif in his dreams since he died. Sometimes, they were good dreams about all the happy times they had spent together; other times, Roy would berate him on letting him die. Logically, he knew that there was nothing he could have done, and he liked to think that his partner knew that too. But what if he had missed some sign that shit was about to go down? </p><p>Talia had fallen asleep on the other bed in the room (Alfie had been great and given them a guest room with two of them). Jason sat up quietly, knowing that Talia was a light sleeper. Almost any sound at all would be able to alert her and wake her up, and that would be...unfortunate. Luckily, he had been trained well in that regard. The room was mostly dark, barely lit by the moon outside the window.</p><p>Leaving the door slightly ajar, he silently slipped out into the hallway. He wasn't sure what time it was or how much time he had until someone (probably Talia) woke up and started looking for him, so he'd have to work quickly. At the same time, he couldn't be too loud lest he wake them up sooner. </p><p>It seemed a bit risky to make another attempt so close to his last one and while he was under Bruce's roof, but he didn't really care. Anyone else would do what he was doing, right? He loved Roy, and he would go to the ends of the Earth for him. He couldn't just...live without him. It was impossible, so how come everyone seemed to expect that he would? Every single time Death kicked him out, it only made him more determined to stay and be with his partner. </p><p>Tim's door was open, and his younger brother wasn't inside. He frowned. Tim oftentimes stayed up until absolutely disgusting hours of the morning, so it wasn't all that surprising. Jason hoped that he wouldn't catch on, or worse, interrupt, his plans. He probably wouldn't, right? It wasn't as though he had told anyone what he was going to do, so even though they were all on high alert (really, fuck Damian for that one), they shouldn't stop him, especially given the hour. </p><p>Entering the bathroom, he slowly shut the door as to not create any sound. He turned the water on in the bathtub and plugged the hole, watching for a few minutes as the water level gradually rose. Tapping his fingers, Jason cast a few apprehensive looks towards the now locked door, wondering if his mother had awoken and noticed his absence yet; maybe they were going to bust in on him at an inopportune moment. He'd be able to explain any of their suspicions away if they came in now, but later? All bets were off. He would have to move as fast as possible.</p><p>Drowning was the quietest method and would be the least likely to wake the others, but it did take a long time to kill a person. Jason estimated that it would probably be ten to twelve minutes, but given that the Lazarus Pit had increased his lung capacity, it could be even longer. Deciding to not waste precious time by taking off his clothes, he stopped the tap and carefully stepped in. He blew all the air out of his lungs before submerging himself. </p><p>The water filled his lungs instantly as he instinctively sucked in a breath due to the cold water. Forcing himself to stay calm and not thrash about (doing so could alert the others), he tensed his muscles and waited. How would he be able to tell how much time had passed? The seconds seemed to slow down, stretching out for an eternity each. His eyes stung as soon as he opened them.</p><p>He had never liked drowning or suffocating. It reminded him too much of what he had feared would happen over and over in the coffin he had woken up in all those years ago, but it would be worth it, right? Maybe Death would let him see his partner this time, and if not, there was always his mother. Anywhere that wasn't Wayne manor would be preferable really. He didn't need a babysitter or a watchdog to make sure he didn't fuck up, and he couldn't stand being watched at all hours of the day.</p><p>Black spots started to cloud his vision, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He hoped that it wouldn't be too much longer. Patience had never been his strong suit, and well, this wasn't exactly a <em>comfortable </em>experience, to say the least. He wasn't sure how long he lingered at the brink of consciousness, but it felt like a lifetime. His body always fought to stay alive even if his mind rebelled against the notion. It was frustrating. </p><p>Jason fell unconscious right as he felt a strong arm grip the front of his shirt and pull him upwards.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments and suggestions are welcome and appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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